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Posts Tagged ‘poetry’

I feel like I’ve been living in a dreamlike state for the past few years

As if I’ve been asleep and under an illusion

Hypnotized by the lure of starting somewhere completely new 

Building a new life with new people and new adventures

But cracks are starting to form along the surfaces 

Exposing the reality beneath

I’m beginning to realize that not everything is as I thought

Or hoped or dreamed they would be

Sometimes I wake up for brief periods of time

Tears streaming down my face

Heart bruised and battered

I scream and cry and try to see life as it really is

But I am guarded by a beast that knows neither compassion nor empathy

This beast is my keeper 

Feeding me with little poisoned truffles of doubt and blame

Frightening me into submission

Part of me wants to escape and be free

The other part wants to see if I can conquer and tame the beast

Changing the fear into a much stronger love

I know there is potential

But I fear that it is doomed to remain under the enchantement

Only time will tell

If I’m able to fully wake and break 

Free from this glass prison 

Of doubt, fear, blame, jealousy

I do know that I cannot trust anyone around me

They are illusions of sincerity

At any moment they could turn

Thus Sleeping Beauty blinks awake for a brief moment

Takes a deep breath

And closes her eyes once more

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Jenna

(I think I wrote this poem when I was in 6th grade. I found it in a little poetry portfolio in one of my middle school folders. That would date this either 2001 or 2002.)

Jenna,

Observant, calm, intuitive,

Sister of J.T. and daughter of John and Nancy,

Lover of mornings that are filled with serenity, books that lure you into their pages, and her admirable family,

Who feels content when curled up under her warm cozy sheets, dejected if sorrowful news reaches her ears, and blissful when it seems that luck is on her side,

Who needs privacy, an unending supply of books, and honorable friends,

Who gives thoughtful advice, her attention to whoever’s speaking, and companionship,

Who fears suffering, the end of something that should last forever, and loneliness,

Who would like to see peace between all countries, Orlando Bloom in person, and the end of hateful words and gossip,

Resident of St. Charles, Missouri,

Thomas

I was 7 in this picture, not 11 or 12 when I wrote this poem, but I thought I would share a picture of younger me anyway.

I was 7 in this picture, not 11 or 12 when I wrote this poem, but I thought I would share a picture of younger me anyway.

 

❤ Me

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Coming Soon

I’ve been thinking and getting this itch that’s getting stronger every day.

For the longest time, I’ve been writing so much poetry. Of course I won’t stop.
But now I have a burning desire to start writing music and melodies. I’ll need to start recording and printing off blank sheet music and putting the notes in my head to paper.

I want to make a Demo CD.

It will come soon! Within the year!
And now you readers might just hold me accountable for this.

20130116-225522.jpg

❤ Me

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(In honor of the midnight release The Hobbit film, I wanted to share my favorite verses from The Lord of the Rings. I had a little trouble with the formatting, but I hope you enjoy the beautiful verses nonetheless.)

A Elbereth Gilthoniel,
silivren penna miriel
o menel aglar elenath,
na-chaered palan diriel
o galadhremmin ennorath
nef aear, sí aearon,
Fanluilos, le linnathon
Nef aear, sí aearon!

‘O Elbereth Star-kindler,

(white) glittering slants-down sparkling-like-jewels

from firmament glory [of] the star-host,

to-remote-distance after-having-gazed

from tree-tangled middle-lands,

on-this-side [of] ocean, here [on this side of] the Great Ocean,

Fanuilos, to thee I will chant

on-this-side [of] ocean, here [on this side of] the Great Ocean!’

 

O môr henion i dhû:

Ely siriar, êl síla.

Ai! Aníron Undómiel.

Tiro! Êl eria e môr.

I ‘lîr en êl luitha ‘úren.

Ai! Aníron…

‘From darkness I understand the night:

dreams flow, a star shines.

Ah! I desire Evenstar.

Look! A star rises out of the darkness.

The song of the star enchants my heart.

Ah! I desire…’

Bealocwealm hafað fréone frecan forth onsended
giedd sculon singan gléomenn sorgiende

on Meduselde þæt he ma no wære

his dryhtne dyrest and mæga deorost.

Bealo…

‘An evil death has set forth the noble warrior
A song shall sing sorrowing minstrels

in Meduseld that he is no more,

to his lord dearest and kinsmen most belover.
‘An evil death…’

Ú i vethed nâ i onnad.

Si boe ú-dhanna.

Ae ú-esteli, esteliach nad.

Nâ boe ú i.

Estelio han, estelio han, estelio,

estelio han, estelio veleth.

 [Es]teliach nad, estelio han.

‘Not the end [it] is the beginning.

Now it-is-necessary [that] don’t-fall

If you don’t-trust some-thing.’

 ‘Not the end [it] is the beginning.’

 ‘[It] is necessary don’t that.’

 ‘Trust this, trust this, trust

Trust this, trust love.’

 You trust some-thing, trust this.’

Héo naefre wacode dægréd

Tó bisig mid dægeweorcum

Ac oft héo wacode sunnanwanung

Ðonne nihtciele créap geond móras

And on ðaere hwile

Héo dréag ðá losinga

Earla ðinga ðe héo forléas.

Héo swá oft dréag hire sáwle sincende

Héo ne cúðe hire heortan lust.

‘She never watched the morning rising,

Too busy with the day’s first chores,

But oft she would watch the sun’s fading,

As the cold of night crept across the moors.

And in that moment

She felt the loss

Of everything that had been missed.

So used to feeling the spirit sink,

She had not felt her own heart’s wish.’

Ngîl cennin eriel vi 
Menel aduial, 
Glingant sui vîr 
Síliel mae. 

Ngîl cennin firiel vi 
Menel aduial, 
Dúr, dúr i fuin

Naenol mae.

An i ú nathant

An i naun ului

A chuil, anann cuiannen

A meleth, perónen

I saw a star rise high in the
Evening sky,
It hung like a jewel,
Softly shining.

I saw a star fade in the
Evening sky,
The dark was too deep and so light died,
Softly pining.

For what might have been,
For what never was.
For a life, long lived
For a love half given

Orthannen im vi ól
Coll e dû

Or hiriath naur

Na rovail mae sui ‘waew

Man prestant i ardhon?

Cerithar aen illiad dim úthenin?

In a dream I was lifted up.
Borne from the darkness
Above the rivers of fire.
On wings doft as the wind.
What’s happened to the world?
Is everything sad going to come untrue?

ArwenLOTR

❤ Me

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You May Think

You may think that my poetry is crap

And that the cutting

Of my phrases

Into a specific form

Makes me look like a fake

 

You may think that I’m vain

And self-centered

Posting glamour shots of myself

As if I’m desperate for attention

 

You may think I’ve never read a poem

In my entire life

And wouldn’t recognize good writing

If I saw it

 

Guess what

I don’t give a shit about what you think

Of me

 

I am a strong woman

I am beautiful

I am passionate

I am me

 

And I will write the way I want to write

I will say what I want to say

And how I want to say it

I will post the pictures that I want

 

You may not like what I write

That’s fine

I do not write for you

 

I write for my own benefit

I write to share my soul with those who will read

I write to express my feelings

I write for me

 

 

❤ Me

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G and I got together one weekend and made a little video. He had a great idea to set me reciting a poem along with background music to scenes that he recorded on his video camera. After a couple hours he had about 20 minutes to choose from which he looked at and worked extra hard to put something together. The result is something awesome! I hope you enjoy it!

I’ll put the poem and translation here for you to read first.

French:

J’implore ta pitié, Toi, l’unique que j’aime,
Du fond du gouffre obscur où mon coeur est tombé.
C’est un univers morne à l’horizon plombé,
Où nagent dans la nuit l’horreur et le blasphème;

Un soleil sans chaleur plane au-dessus six mois,
Et les six autres mois la nuit couvre la terre;
C’est un pays plus nu que la terre polaire
— Ni bêtes, ni ruisseaux, ni verdure, ni bois!

Or il n’est pas d’horreur au monde qui surpasse
La froide cruauté de ce soleil de glace
Et cette immense nuit semblable au vieux Chaos;

Je jalouse le sort des plus vils animaux
Qui peuvent se plonger dans un sommeil stupide,
Tant l’écheveau du temps lentement se dévide!

English:

Have pity, my one love and sole delight!
Down to a dark abyss my heart has sounded,
A mournful world, by grey horizons bounded,
Where blasphemy and horror swim by night.

For half the year a heatless sun gives light,
The other half the night obscures the earth.
The arctic regions never knew such dearth.
No woods, nor streams, nor creatures meet the sight.

No horror in the world could match in dread
The cruelty of that dire sun of frost,
And that huge night like primal chaos spread.

I envy creatures of the vilest kind
That they in stupid slumber can be lost —
So slowly does the skein of time unwind!

❤ Me

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The Lie

When I was in Iowa for Thanksgiving, I bought a poetry anthology entitled, Immortal Poems of the English Language. I was looking for a book of poetry but never imagined I would stumble across something like this that has 447 British and American masterpieces by 150 poets! It begins with Geoffrey Chaucer and proceeds through to Dylan Thomas. I’m absorbing them like a sponge and reading them aloud to myself when I have time to sit down and read for fun (something I’m trying to get into the habit of doing more often).

I came across a poem called, “The Lie” by Sir Walter Raleigh (1552-1618) and felt compelled to share it with you. Enjoy.

Go, Soul, the body’s guest,

Upon a thankless arrant:

Fear not to touch the best;

The truth shall be thy warrant:

Go, since I needs must die,

And give the world the lie.

Say to the court, it glows

And shines like rotten wood;

Say to the church, it shows

What’s good, and doth no good:

If church and court reply,

Then give them both the lie.

Tell potentates, they live

Acting by others’ action;

Not loved unless they give,

Not strong but by a faction:

If potentates reply,

Give potentates the lie.

Tell men of high condition,

That manage the estate,

Their purpose is ambition,

Their practice only hate:

And if they once reply,

Then give them all the lie.

Tell them that brave it most,

They beg for more by spending,

Who, in their greatest cost,

Seek nothing but commending:

And if they make reply,

Then give them all the lie.

Tell zeal it wants devotion;

Tell love it is but lust:

Tell time it is but motion;

Tell flesh it is but dust:

And wish them not reply,

For thou must give the lie.

Tell age it daily wasteth;

Tell honour how it alters;

Tell beauty how she blasteth;

Tell favour how it falters:

And as they shall reply,

Give every one the lie.

Tell wit how much it wrangles

In tickle points of niceness;

Tell wisdom she entangles

Herself in over-wiseness:

And when they do reply,

Straight give them both the lie.

Tell physic of her boldness;

Tell skill it is pretension;

Tell charity of coldness;

Tell law it is contention:

And as they do reply,

So give them still the lie.

Tell fortune of her blindness;

Tell nature of decay;

Tell friendship of unkindness;

Tell justice of delay:

And if they will reply,

Then give them all the lie.

Tell arts they have no soundness,

But vary by esteeming;

Tell schools they want profoundness,

And stand too much on seeming:

If arts and schools reply,

Give arts and schools the lie.

Tell faith it’s fled the city;

Tell how the country erreth;

Tell manhood shakes off pity

And virtue least preferreth:

And if they do reply,

Spare not to give the lie.

So when thou hast, as I

Commanded thee, done blabbing

–Although to give the lie

Deserves no less than stabbing–

Stab at thee he that will,

No stab the soul can kill.

~*~

That poem struck me as extremely relevant to the state of this world today. I wonder if anyone agrees with me.

And also, Raleigh never states what “the lie” actually is…

Would anyone like to guess and give their ideas of what lie the reader should tell society?

❤ Me

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